Her Voice, Her Revenge

“Vincent, is this what you’ve given me?”

She held up the prenatal tonic prescription from the list. Vincent clearly hadn’t expected to be caught; his expression turned awkward.

“Judith, calm down. Don’t take it out on her.”

“That night… we just got carried away.” Seeing her face grow even paler, he sighed helplessly. “I wanted her to end it, but the stubborn girl refused. Absolutely refused.”

“Losing our child pains me too. But look at the bright side—once this baby is born, you’ll be its mother. The Vincent family needs an heir, Judith. Be the bigger person. Do this for me. Please?”

“Vincent, our child is dead. He was so small… only seven months. How could you…”

Tears blurred her vision. Even the air in the carriage felt thick, suffocating.

The rest of the words stuck in her throat, too vile to speak.

“The child is already buried. What’s the point of dwelling on it now?” Vincent snapped, impatient. “Are you going to live in misery forever? I haven’t even taken a second wife—you should be grateful for that!”

Listening to him, Judith felt her heart slowly extinguish, like a candle burned down to its wick.

He was right. What was the point?

The carriage soon returned to the estate. Preoccupied, they entered the house one after the other.

Vincent noticed Leah’s absence as soon as he stepped inside. Odd, he thought.

Since Judith became pregnant, they had slept separately.

She reached her chamber door and opened it—only to find Leah inside, polishing a folding screen.

The girl looked as if she’d been working for hours, sweat beading on her forehead, her face flushed.

Seeing Judith return, she quickly put on an obsequious, fawning expression. “Madam, your room is all cleaned up.”

The sight pierced Vincent’s heart. He pushed past Judith and pulled Leah into his arms. “You’re pregnant! You shouldn’t be doing heavy work like this. Why won’t you listen?”

He turned a furious glare on Judith. “What is the meaning of this?”

Judith shook her head in panic. “I never ordered her to work! I’ve barely even seen her!”

Leah swayed weakly in the man’s embrace, her voice frail. “Vincent, don’t ask… I’m fine…”

“Silly girl, you’re carrying my child. If anyone’s bullied you, I’ll make it right.”

She didn’t speak, just buried her face in his chest and wept—a picture of pitiful, tear-streaked misery.

“Judith, didn’t I tell you not to mistreat her?!” he roared. “She’s pregnant too. How can you be so cruel?”

Judith had no defense. Even through her disappointment, the injustice brought fresh tears. “What are you saying? You don’t believe me?”

“Leah is pregnant. She wouldn’t risk a joke like this.” Then, softening his voice, he murmured to the girl in his arms, “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Whatever you want, I’ll get it for you.”

“Sister Judith has… a protective charm. It’s very pretty. I’d like one for our baby, too…”

Vincent’s gaze hardened as he looked back at Judith. “Consider it an apology to Leah. Go and get that charm yourself.”

Judith stood rooted to the spot, Vincent’s voice seeming to come from somewhere far away.

Seeing her unmoved, the man’s expression darkened. “If you won’t apologize, then Ariana’s academy won’t be opening its doors again.”

The memory of her sister’s smile forced Judith’s surrender. “I’ll go.”

She hadn’t missed Leah’s triumphant smirk. She was just… tired.

Two thousand steps. Judith climbed them one by one in the pouring rain, her postpartum weakness turning the ordeal into pure agony.

Finally, she obtained the so-called protective charm. Soaked to the bone, she presented it to Leah, who took one glance and tossed it aside. “Vincent, it looks dirty. I don’t want it anymore.”

The last words Judith heard before darkness claimed her were Vincent’s, gentle and dismissive:

“Then don’t have it, my darling. As long as you stop crying.”